


Never Empty

by littlechinesedoll



Series: Cum Dumpster Bruce Wayne [23]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Superman - All Media Types
Genre: Alpha Clark Kent, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Erotic Lactation, Implied erotic lactation, Impregnation Kink, Intersex Bruce Wayne, Intersex Omegas, M/M, Male Lactation, Mpreg, Omega Bruce Wayne, Pregnancy Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-28
Updated: 2016-12-28
Packaged: 2018-09-12 21:39:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9091771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlechinesedoll/pseuds/littlechinesedoll
Summary: Anonymous asked: I hope this is the right place for an ask prompt: Bruce is pregnant and feels insecure about gaining weight. Clark, on the other hand, is so obsessed with Bruce's full, curvy ass that's he's nearly drooling and figures he should give it a good squeeze, porn ensures.Anonymous asked: Ok but more Alpha Supes wanting to breed Bruce like hot damn. The man needs to be filled. I'm just imaging Supes promising to give him a whole extra team of Robins.Anonymous asked: Pregnant Omega Bruce is being worship by his Alpha Clark





	

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr link: http://cumdumpsterbrucie.tumblr.com/post/155067115911/im-not-sure-if-this-has-enough-worshiping-though
> 
> I’m not sure if this has enough worshiping though xD
> 
> unbeta’d. belated merry christmas. happy holidays and season’s greetings xD

Bruce steps out of the bathroom fresh from a shower in one of Clark's dress shirts and a pair of loose pajama bottoms, which also belonged to him. He’s running out of dress shirts for work (also running out of clothes he can actually wear), but one day he found his dresser full of new, crisp shirts, pajamas, and underwear, which probably cost more than twice his annual salary. Bruce had taken a liking to his cheap, a size or two bigger shirts (Bruce’s favorites are Clark’s college shirts).

Bruce used to like wearing nice things. Things that were expensive, form hugging, made of silk, and brands that Clark can’t, for the life of him, pronounce or ever afford. But ever since their baby started to make the world know she exists, Bruce now wears bigger coats and looser clothing.

It makes Clark miserable. Bruce doesn’t like walking around naked in their bedroom anymore, or taking showers and baths with Clark. Or let Clark touch him.  

Bruce sits down on the edge of the bed and towel dries his hair. Clark climbs in bed with him and places kisses on his neck and shoulders. Bruce leans away from him. “No, Clark,” he says, then continues to dry his hair. Clark tries again. “I said no!” he glares at him.

Clark frowns.

“What?” Bruce demands.

“You haven’t let me touch you in a while, Bruce,” says Clark.

‘A while’ meant more than just a few weeks.

“Because I don’t want to be touched!” he hisses.

“Why not?”

“Why _not_?” Bruce repeats, giving Clark an incredulous look. “My chest is sore, I feel fine one moment and then feel like sobbing the next; none of my clothes fit anymore and it feels like it’s 95 degrees all day; I’m nesting and wanting to clean everything and it’s driving me insane, it’s driving Alfred insane. I’m hungry all the damn time and stuff my face with cravings, and everything I eat goes to my ass, thighs, and hips–and you have the _audacity_ to ask me _why_ I don’t want to be _touched_?”

For a moment Clark wants to say something witty, but that will probably end up with him sleeping somewhere else other than their bed. “But I miss you,” he says instead.

“Well you’re going to have to put up with missing me and my fat ass until this kid comes out,” Bruce stands up to deposit the wet towel into the hamper.

“But I like your fat ass,”

Bruce turns around. “Excuse me?” he looks fuming.

“I do!” says Clark. “You’re softer now and I like watching you eat because you never really eat more than you need before the baby,” he crawls over to the edge of the bed and pulls Bruce back onto it. “I’m not saying that I’d like for you to actually let go, but I like seeing you be…a lot less wound up and a lot more calm,”

Bruce lets himself be pulled into an embrace. “So you’re saying I’m fat,” it wasn’t a question. It also had a lot of heat to it. Bruce hates the weight he’s gaining. It will be a pain to lose it all when it was time to return to duty.

“ _You_ said you were fat,” Clark says. “I don’t think you are. I just like the changes your body is going through,” he presses kisses to Bruce’s neck and his hands make their way to Bruce’s lower hip and gently kneads the weight that had pooled there.

“I hate it,” Bruce gasps, feeling the heat rush to his loins.

“Hate what?” Clark whispers, slowly undoing the buttons of Bruce’s top. Seeing Bruce wear his clothes turn him on.

Bruce moans when Clark’s fingers brush over a sensitive nipple. “The weight gain,” he pants. It’s been weeks since he and Clark had spent any intimate time together, so he’s not surprised to find himself rock hard and sopping wet after a few touches.

Clark looms over him and admires his mate’s body. Obviously, his favorite part his Bruce’s still growing belly.

Clark spoons Bruce as soon as the pants and underwear are off, and presses his finger into Bruce’s wet folds. “I find it attractive,” he peppers kisses onto Bruce’s shoulders. He smiles against Bruce’s skin.

Bruce draws in a sharp breath when Clark’s fingers breach him. Shit, that feels too good. Too good that he lifts his leg up and starts moving his hips, fucking himself on Clark’s fingers. He’s ashamed that he looks so desperate.

This is what he doesn’t want to happen. He doesn’t want Clark to see the stretchmarks on his belly, on his hips and thighs.

“Fuck,” Bruce hisses.

Clark chuckles. “Good?” he slips in another finger and that makes Bruce exhale through his teeth. “Do you have any idea how gorgeous you look, Bruce?” he whispers against Bruce’s ear.

The wet squelching of Clark’s fingers sound so obscene and filthy–Bruce loves it.

Bruce shakes his head, and growls through an orgasm. He lies limp in Clark’s arms. “You’re out of your mind,” he pants.

“Yeah?” Clark throws his pants to the floor.

Bruce sees Clark’s erection and he wants it. Clark doesn’t have to say anything else. Bruce gets on his knees, reaches for Clark’s cock from between his legs, and guides him in.

The stretch makes him shake through another orgasm when Clark is halfway in. Clark shoves it in to the hilt as Bruce shivers, and it triggers another orgasm when he feels Clark’s bulbous tip press into his cervix.

“Clark…” he heaved.

Clark bends over and Bruce can feel Clark’s warm breath in his ear. “Don’t go believing you’ve become unattractive, Bruce, because I swear to you, nobody will ever look as beautiful as you,”

The dry spell was both a good and a bad idea, Bruce thinks. Bad idea, because well, he probably looks like a cock hungry pregnant whore. Good idea because Clark’s cock feels absolutely amazing.

Clark doesn’t start slow or gentle. He starts it just a little bit toned down from what Bruce is used to, and there are no words forming for Bruce right now other than it’s just incredible.

“Love your belly, Bruce,” says Clark in his ear, his hand rubbing circle’s on Bruce’s heavy middle.

“It’s…” Bruce fumbles with his words. God, that cock feels so good. “Getting too big,”

“I love it big,” replies Clark. “Gonna keep you big, Bruce,”

Bruce closes his eyes and shakes his head. “No,”

“Gonna keep you pregnant,”

Bruce puts his face against a pillow, his hands clawing at the sheets as he comes again, and groans coming low from his throat are muffled by the pillow. Clark is still moving. “Can’t…” he pants.

“Going to give you more Robins, Bruce, as many as you can birth,”

Bruce’s toes curl. “Can’t stop cumming…” that’s the fifth orgasm.

“When she’s born, I’ll fuck another baby into you,”

Bruce’s instincts betray him. He wants that. He desperately wants that.

Six.

“You’ll never be empty,” Clark promises him. “You’ll always be full of me,”

“Clark!” he whines. “That’s…so good…”

“Your tits will always be engorged and leaking milk,”

Seven.

“You’ll have a toddler to raise,” Clark keeps going. He doesn’t let his pace falter. “An infant latched to your breast, and maybe even twins, multiples, in your belly, to make you even bigger, all at the same time,”

Bruce lets out a cry.

“And everybody will see that you’re the epitome of an omega mate, of what an omega should do for his alpha,”

Eight.

Bruce has never heard Clark talk dirty before. Usually it’s him trying to rile up his alpha with filthy words.

“And I’ll fuck you as slow and as fast, as gentle and as hard as you want, and put more children in you. Always pregnant, always leaking, and always full of my cock,”

Nine.

Clark’s enjoying the sounds Bruce is making. He’s not even going that fast, and not even close to hard since he might hurt the baby.

Clark comes a few more thrusts later, and Bruce joins him with his tenth orgasm.

The pseudo-alpha pulls out and his come drips out of Bruce’s pulsating cunt. Bruce had gone soft, the sheets under him soaked in omega slick and semen, and his thighs and Clark’s cock glistening with his slick.

Bruce plops down on the bed, exhausted, but still manages to give Clark a bad look. “That’s the best sex we’ve ever had yet but I’m not going to let you get me pregnant again,”

Clark laughs heartily and crawls over to give Bruce a kiss. Bruce blinks and Clark’s already cleaned them up.

“But seriously, Bruce,” Clark spoons him again and places a hand to Bruce’s belly. “You’re not fat like you think you are. And your belly makes you even sexier,”

Bruce humphs. He’s just thankful Clark still finds him attractive. “Whatever,”

Clark chuckles. “Love you,”

“You better.” Bruce replies without heat, putting his hand over Clark’s on his belly. 


End file.
